The Chaotic Dreamer
by Saraphiel
Summary: Warning: Contains Slash, or romance between two males.The adventures of Jophiel, a night elf far away from his homeland, and his relationship with other Alliance, the Defias Brotherhood, and a very special troll.
1. A Dangerous New Enemy

This tale is blatant, obvious slash which turns sexual not far into the middle point of the story, if the idea bothers you, don't read. Honestly though, would you have clicked on the story if you were expecting anything else?

I do need to warn my readers however (if anyone actually knows me here, which would be really strange since no one knows this pen name ), this story is very, very violent. If you don't like that type of thing, honestly, save yourself the trouble and don't read. Also, please don't complain about things which don't fit into the game universe, I do my best, but honestly it's more difficult then one would think... at least for me.

(The actual plot doesn't start until 3, 1 and 2 are more introductions. Don't stop reading right away; it does get better as the tale goes on)

Also, I don't own World of Warcraft, but these characters are mine... though I'm sure Blizzard technically owns them too.

**Part 1 - Noratu**

_1. Rogues and Priests_

How long had it been since he had left Darkshore? Jophiel could not figure the exact time, but never before had home seemed so very far away. How many gnolls, murlocs, and goretusks had he killed? He could only assume the number was in the hundreds, and every day the number seemed to grow, and grow, and grow. However, at the current time Jophiel was fighting a different, much more cunning set. They called themselves "The Defias Brotherhood". Jophiel's first encounter with these humans happened not long ago.

The reason for this encounter centered on a young male (and human) priest with short, somewhat feminine, black hair. He held a gorgeous slender face and deceptively innocent smile which Jophiel liked from first sight. It was the middle of the afternoon in Westfall when they had first met. Jophiel watched the boy priest from the shadows and waited patiently for the priest to leave before returning to kill another set of harvest watchers for a decrepit farmer who paid much better then he should by common sense alone. All at once, a group of humans in bright red approached the boy. Two men in bandanas stood beside a woman with a patch over her right eye. Her hair was a fiery red and she looked wary beyond her years, though she could not have been even 30, the blemishes and wrinkles on her face told a much different story. The priest turned to the woman and smiled a bright smile, he seemed oblivious to the danger he was in.

"Hey miss. What's wrong?" The priest asked in a tone much to kind for the situation. Jophiel slowly made his way from the shadows and prepared to strike the three bandits (as Jophiel believed they were) from behind.

"We are a little short on silver. We need some cash for... repairs," The woman said. Her voice cut like a cutlass in its shrillness.

"How much du you need?" The priest asked.

"Take a wild guess hon," she replied.

"What do you mean?" The priest questioned once again. Jophiel almost sighed aloud at the boy's blatant ignorance.

"I see the church is allowing mentally handicapped priests now, good to know," The woman continued her verbal assault. The priest still stood motionless, but the smile on his face was gone. "Give me all your money or I'll run you through."

"I need this silver," The boy replied steadfast. The woman unsheathed the longsword at her side

"I don't have time for this. Pillager, Looter, just kill the stupid kid," the woman spoke once again. The two men beside her unsheathed their weapons as well. Jophiel could tell she was a leader, for she held a strong command over the others. One man prepared to attack while the other began readying a fire spell. Was it a fireball? Jophiel wasn't sure, but didn't plan to find out. One swift hit over his head sent the mage to the ground sapped. The other two bandits turned at a speed unlike any Jophiel had encountered in the local bandits, but the man with the dagger still never had a chance for survival.

Jophiel had just bought a Blackwater cutlass from the Auction House, and he planned on testing it upon these bandits. The new blade struck the man with the dagger, and pierced him through the chest. Crimson flowed from the wound, and Jophiel's dagger in his other hand ended the man's screams of pain along with his life. Jophiel twisted the dagger into the man's skull and then tore it from the flesh; chunks of bone could be seen along with the necessary crimson, from the wound. As the man fell, Jophiel effortlessly tore his new cutlass from the dying (if not already dead) man.

"You bastard!" The woman cried. She recklessly charged Jophiel, and was met with a kick to the chest. She stumbled backwards and in one blow was disarmed... completely. The blade, with her hand still holding tight, crashed to the ground and the woman cried in horrible yet oddly beautiful agony. A dark red flowed from her mutilated arm and she began to lose consciousness within a few moments. Before the woman was allowed to find her own way to sleep, Jophiel took matters into his own hand. In a move, which to the uninitiated would look almost like a dance, the stained Blackwater cutlass met with the woman's head, and the top of her head was separated from her body to join her hand upon the ground. She looked vacantly at Jophiel for a moment, and then collapsed to the ground.

Jophiel's eyes moved back to the one he had sapped and cursed under his breath. He should have killed the mage while he had the chance, he knew this, and now knew he would have to face the consequences. The pillager's hands concentrated in a single spot and a bright flame burned from his hands.

"Die rogue!" The pillager cried out. All at once his hands slumped to his side and the familiar crimson poured from his eyelids and his nose. The flames subsided and the pillager fell to the ground, dead within moments. Confused, Jophiel found his vision upon the priest he had saved. The pries was smiling mildly; innocently.

"How?" Jophiel questioned.

"I'm a shadow priest," The priest replied still smiling.

_2. The Defias Brotherhood_

Within a short time the Defias were informed of Jophiel's actions from a member who hid in the barn not far from the confrontation spot. She explained that the youthful, long white haired night elf could possibly become, for lack of a better term, a problem. Two days after the "incident" in Saldean's farm, the bandit's path crossed with the night elf once again. Jophiel was on the road between Sentinel Hill and the long deserted village of Moonbrook. His quest was to find a compass for an older man in Stormwind. Normally such tasks were beneath the highly skilled (if somewhat inexperienced) rogue, but the money was good, and there were plenty of goretusks to skin along the way. Jophiel was on his 5th goretusk when he met with more members of the brotherhood, in their intimidating red clothing and bandanas. Their entire body except for the tips of their hands, which gripped swords, were covered so that not a feature could be made out. Jophiel however, had a guess, even without seeing their faces that they had not come only to chat.

Jophiel's first instinct was to run, but six more of the men ambushed him from the rear. Where had they all come from? Jophiel wondered, but at the moment he did not have time to figure such a thing. He figured it made little difference. The fact still stood; there were twelve Defias, six on each side. The night elf knew he had not a chance in hell, but he readied himself. Would they speak before the assault? Jophiel wondered to himself.

"Those who betray the brotherhood must be dealt with, foul night elf," One of the men in the front of Jophiel said in a haunting monotone. Jophiel's hand went for one of his throwing daggers on his belt. One quick flip of the wrist was all it took for the one who spoke in such a tone to be silenced for all eternity. The dagger pierced the man's forehead and he fell onto the light orange ground. His arms fell limply around him and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The other members of the brotherhood decided the time for speaking was over.

"Aw hell," Jophiel muttered to himself. He figured he would die here, but before he was released into only a wisp, he would take as many of the 11 remaining with him. Jophiel's Blackwater Cutlass connected with one of the men's blades and held fast, a man came from behind, but Jophiel's foot sent the man reeling backwards. A third man struck from the side and Jophiel caught the blade with his rusted dagger he had kept since his arrival in Stormwind.

Both hands were occupied, so though Jophiel could hear yet another of the bandits, he could not stop the man's sword from slicing into Jophiel's shirt, and splitting open his pale, yet fare, pink skin. Jophiel winced in pain.

"You're going to die, night elf," Another taunted. Jophiel truly believed this. Still, he knew he could do more then die like a trapped plane strider in a hunter's sights. A swift kick to the man in his front gave Jophiel strength to overpower the man. With the grace of a master dancer, the Cutlass cut into the man's neck and sent a spray of blood onto Jophiel's clothes and face. The man collapsed to the ground, but the others only grew closer.

It was as if the battle had been choreographed long before the actual performance. The Cutlass swirled to Jophiel's side and sliced another man's stomach open. The man cried, and Jophiel quickly silenced him with his rusted dagger. A man struck from his side, and Jophiel only dodged the blunt of the blade by mere inches. The edge sliced into his arm and he cried out in pain. The rusty dagger quickly found its way into the man's forehead. Even as he fell, more came to take his place. Jophiel managed to take down two more before a hit to the jaw, with the handle of a sword, sent him crashing to the ground. He struggled to leap to his feet, but it was an impossible feat. All at once the realization that he would die here struck Jophiel much harder then the boot which came dangerously close to shattering his ribs. He would not die attempting some great feat, but instead here, in the damned farmland of Westfall. As things seemed ever bleak, a single being came to the young night elf's aid. However, it was not another night elf, nor was it a human. In fact, it wasn't even a member of the alliance.

And so ends the first submission, if you enjoyed, please continue on, and if you did not, I suggest you keep reading regardless. It does get better.


	2. Locke the Troll

Part 3, and 4 of my little tale of Jophiel's adventures, the actual plot starts to kick in around here, enjoy.

_3. Savior _

Why was a troll all the way out in Westfall? If Jophiel hadn't been on the verge of being beaten to death, he might have had time to question it.

"Hey mon, ya need help?" A smooth deep voice asked calmly. The accent was nothing like Jophiel had heard before; exotic and foreign... it was immediately appealing in an odd way.

"Yes! Help me!" Jophiel cried as a boot crashed into his chest.

"Alright mon, ya owe me," The exotic voice replied. All at once a cry pierced the air. The one standing on Jophiel's chest let off for only a moment and immediately lost his foot to the now dulling Blackwater Cutlass. A fountain of human blood spewed like water upon Jophiel. The bandit's screams pierced the air. A swift kick to the remaining leg sent the man downward, and like a martyr of the old wars, he fell upon a sharp sword which promptly, and mercilessly, impaled him.

"Nice mon, now get up and help me," The blue being replied. Jophiel obeyed and pushed himself to his feet, pausing only to rip his blades from the dead man's chest. A lade came for Jophiel's head, but it was easily dodged. The Defias who had attacked, felt Jophiel's wrath. The troll held a truly gigantic two handed blade, like a bastard sword, which illuminated a calming blue. One skilled slash disconnected a man's head from his body, and in one smooth movement struck a second bandit on his side.

Though the troll and night elf were far outnumbered, their skill rang true, and before long they stood around a field of corpses. For the first time, Jophiel was allowed to admire his savior. The being was a good three inches taller, and wore a suit of mail on his chest and leggings, beneath the chest piece was a blue shirt which matched his vibrant blue skin all too perfectly in Jophiel's eyes. Finely toned muscles could be seen on his open arms and part of his legs. Despite the fact that he was a troll, he had no tusks, and this struck Jophiel as strange immediately, yet he knew better then to ask (It wouldn't occur to the night elf until later, that the troll was also speaking common). The troll's eyes shone a rugged green, and a pink ponytail ran down his bacck. The being seemed worlds different then all the stories Jophiel had heard of trolls; he didn't seem vicious or uncivilized, nor did he seem like a heartless killer. Nevertheless, Jophiel never let down his guard for even a moment.

"Don't I get a thank ya lil' elf?" The troll teased. He seemed to have a tone of good humor, but Jophiel wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not.

"Thank you... Mr. Troll," Jophiel responded.

"What's your name lil' elf?" The troll asked.

"Jophiel, now stop calling me 'lil elf'," Jophiel replied.

"I'm Locke. Nice to meet ya mon," he smiled a gently; mildly... much like the priest from a few days ago.

"What's a troll doing way out here in Westfall?" Jophiel questioned. The first of many questions had just came to his mind.

"Duskwood isn't far from here,' Lock explained. "I wanted ta explore a bit, and you're lucky I did or you'd be a lil' floaty ball right now."

"True, thank you," Jophiel answered uncertainly. "You should be careful. The people's militia are offering rewards for horde."

"Ya mon," Locked nodded as he spoke. "Ya can pay me back some otha time.. See ya around lil' elf."

Before Jophiel could respond, the troll turned and walked away.

_4. Longing_

Jophiel now knew that the Defias were a force to be reckoned with. He knew that he must stay on his guard at all times or before long his head would be removed from his shoulders. The newfound villians were unsettling, but the troll, Lock, cross the night elf's mind far more. A horde, one of the ones who he had always believed were ruthless murderers, had saved his life and asked for not a single thing (_yet_ Jophiel halfway reminded himself). If he were back in Teldrassil, Jophiel knew he could have confided in the moon priestess, who had taken a liking to him almost immediately so long ago, but she was across the ocean. His entire past life was across the ocean... so many miles from home. Kalimdor had never seemed further away. All of his friends, all of his family, they were home, but he was in the land of the humans. Why? Riches? Fame? Jophiel did not even know any longer, his reasons were but a distant memory.

Locke... Jophiel wanted to see the troll named Locke once again. The troll had done something that others wouldn't dare even attempt. He faced off against around a dozen bandits for no true reason except for to help the enemy. Jophiel thought about this as he slept on a worn-out mattress in the single room inn. Other adventures slept all around him, and others came in by the hour, but they could have not seemed farther away.

"Ya mon... see ya around lil' elf," Jophiel muttered to himself. The impression was dead wrong, and the accent was gone, but the meaning still stayed with him. With this simple goodbye in his mind, Jophiel began to plan ahead. First he would make his way to one of the leaders of the people's ilita and would report all he had encountered (minus Locke... at the very least, he owed the troll that much) and ask for advice. Maybe he could help in the fight against the Defias... he knew that they wouldn't rest until he was dead, so should he not take the same stance? If all went well, he knew this could lead to riches and fame.. the Defias must have been a problem in Westfall, and Jophiel knew this. He wondered if he could help silence them from the area once and for all.

Once he had done that, he could decide exactly what he would do about Locke, and about Duskwood. Now however, he understood his goal. With a newfound, if extremely rough, sense of direction Jophiel closed his eyes and listened to the crows outside the inn. His mind returned to Locke once again...

Well that was deceptively short. I hate copying handwritten things ... nonetheless, the other characters are finally introduced next chapter, and the first romance begins to spring up. That has to account for something right?


	3. The Way To the Deadmines

Jophiel forms a party which leads him into the Deadmines along with a certain priest he had met a few days ago... and quite a few new faces. The Deadmines, however, is a very dangerous place; so many things could go wrong...

_5. Forming a Party_

When Jophiel had concocted his little plan around four days ago, he never would have guessed he would be required to make his way to some Alliance town often at war with the horde, and then return to Stormwind once again. Oh how he loved soaring through the air on a wind rider! The feeling of wind upon his face, through his flowing white hair, caressing him like the moon priestess had done so many times in the past. Jophiel loved looking down as the world flew by much faster then he had ever dared travel before. Flying over this land was so much different then the sea between Darkshore and Teldrassil... so much to see and enjoy. Men fighting dragons and elementals in the burning steps, lone warriors on their horses making their way through the dense forest, all happening far below.

Finally, Jophiel had returned to Sentinel Hill. He had already hunted down and killed a messenger and in his note it spoke of a man known as VanCleef hidden away somewhere. Even more luck brought about a Defias traitor to the human's ranks. He led Jophiel, along with as of now undisclosed party members, to VanCleef's hideout and they would hunt down and kill the man. The traitor had spoke of fierce opposition, but Jophiel assumed that with the help of four others there were be no real threat.

An hour passed before the others began to arrive. First there was a gnome mage named Azsharite, with short red hair and a chubby face. Jophiel had always had a firm dislike for gnomes, and somehow he knew that this one would not change his opinion. The second member arrived a minute or so later. He was a fellow night elf, who went by Zaries. He held a heavy gold buckler and a thin, long sword which almost seemed to shine in the sun. His eyes were a calming yellow, and his blue hair covered part of his eyes. He was quiet and serious; Jophiel had a nice bet that he was good with a blade.

Half an hour passed.

"Hey! Long time no see!" A relatively faniliar voice called to the group cheerfully. It was the priest Jophiel had saved from the group of bandits; the one who had gotten the night elf into this total mess. Jophiel wanted to kiss the priest for allowing this chance, and might have if it weren't for the stock, yet handsome, male paladin standing beside the priest. The paladin held a two handed wooden hammer, which matched his short brown hair, giving him a singular look, which Jophiel didn't much like.

The priest introduced himself as Noratu and the paladin as Varis. Jophiel found it strange that Noratu spoke for the paladin, but decided it made very little difference in the scheme of things. Once introductions were finished, the group let the messenger lead them to a certain building in Moonbrook.

_6. The Mine_

"We're here," Noratu spoke, stating the obvious. No one paid him any mind. Zaries lead the way into the dank old building which seemed to be held up only by rotting wood and mildew.

"There's nothin' here," Azsharite the gnome shrugged "Did he lie?"

"I don't know, but it is a hideout... it's probably hidden," Noratu replied. On that note the party searched for a hidden door, and before long, lo and behold, Zaries found another path on the second floor. A doorway led into a dank cavern which spiraled deep into the darkness.

"Fun," Azsharite muttered as they began their journey into the hideout. The pathway lead down half a dozen stories which found its way connected to a series of tunnels. The walls were damp with condensation and the floor was split every few feet to allow metal pipes to run through the cracks. This path led over a thin wooden platform and down another hallway which delved even deeper into the caverns. Zaries tightly gripped his blade and prepared for an assault. The cavern was well lit by torches, and many miners could be seen digging into the walls. They looked to be dwarves with dark black hair upon their heads. Beards lined most of their sweat stained faces.

"Jophiel right?" Zaries whispered to the rogue.

"Yeah," Jophiel replied in the same hushed tone. "What is it?"

"Sneak around them," Zaries replied.

"Wait why?" Jophiel asked confused. Zaries immediately got frustrated.

"Why do you think? An ambush," Zaries explained in an impatient tone. "You can strike from one side, me and the pally from another. The mage can do some magical shit and choir boy can heal. Understand now?" Zaries half smiled, but Jophiel was anything but amused.

"I don't take orders pal," Jophiel replied. Before Zaries could object, Jophiel pulled a knife from his belt and readied his throw. In one fluid movement he pulled back and threw the razor sharp dagger through the air It pierced a miner's skull and the man's work paused while he evaluated that fact the a blade had pierced his head. He felt the blood soak into his hair, and tried to scream, but it was an impossible battle. A whimper left the miner's lips and he fell.

"What the hell are you thinking?" Zaries asked angrily. The other half a dozen miners turned toward the group and one cried out for backup. The others rushed the party without any strategy or kill. Azsharite blasted one with a searing flame, killing the miner instantly, while Zaries and Jophiel made exceptionally quick work of the remaining. The Party didn't make more then a few hundred feet before real members of the Defias awaited the group. Swords clashed, and bodies burned like marshmallows over an open campfire.

"Hey guys... go get hurt or something, I'm getting bored," The priest playfully whined. Jophiel smiled at the immaturity but did not respond. Neither did anyone else. The cavern was like a maze, but eventually, with a ten Defias body count, the party found their way into the heart of the hideout. Little did they know that nothing in the mine would go as planned...

Well a little bit of character development at least. After the Deadmines section is over the entire story falls into a more romance driven, and less action driven, tale, so if you're getting tired of all the death, only a little bit more of such things before the plot goes into overdrive. Part 1 may be just a little bit too long, but it helps you get to know Jophiel, so yeah that's my excuse.


	4. In the Deadmines

Jophiel and company finally enter the instance, and face the first bit of resistance. Nothing major really. Still, enjoy.

_7. The First Defense_

Gigantic metal machines hummed a soft buzzing sound which echoed throughout the torch lit cavern walls. Miners flocked in groves and were cut down without much effort. The cavern winded around in a single pathway which lead to a closed door with a hammer wielding, white as a sheet, ogre. His eyes danced from one party member to another and a sickening grin crossed his lips.

"VanCleef pay big for your heads," The monster gushed excitedly. For is huge size, he was sickeningly fast, Jophiel noted.

"I've got him!" Zaries cried. The hammer was swung and Zaries blocked without much effort. The mallet crashed into Zaries's shield and almost sent the warrior crashing to the ground, but through pure self will he held firm "Now!"

As if on cue, Jophiel returned from the shadows, which no one saw him enter, and lunged his Cutlass deep into the back of the monster. The ogre cried out and green blood flowed from his gaping wound on his back. The monster rose his hammer , and to Zaries's surprise, sent the hammer into his chest. The warrior went crashing to the ground.

"Ah shit... my ribs," Zaries cried out. Looking overjoyed he finally had something to do, Noratu rushed over to the injured night elf.

"Elf went splat," the ogre commented hideously and burst into a guffaw . Jophiel leaped backwards, but the monster was too fast. The hammer crashed into Jophiel's frame. The rogue felt a pain in his legs, and then collapsed to the ground. At least one of his legs were broken, and the other might have been as well, he thought. The monster rose his hammer into the sky. Purple colored shards that shattered like glass ripped into the monster's back, and they exploded shards into his chest. The monster only laughed and turned his attention away from Jophiel, and instead to the mage. The monster took a single step before a sword pierced its forehead. The laughing stopped and a strange gasping replaced it. The monster groaned and struggled to regain its composure, but a fireball quickly ended the monster's exercise in futility.

"Hey Noratu... could you get over here and heal me?" Jophiel struggled to speak. Noratu made his way to the rogue and bent over him.

"I could kiss it and make it all better, or I could just cast a healing spell on you, your choice," The priest joked. For a moment Jophiel thought about accepting the kiss, but only for a moment.

_8. Differences of Opinion_

Jophiel was amazed at how potent the priest's magic actually turned out to be. Within a few minutes he had pushed to his feet and saw Zaries pulling his sword from the fallen monster's forehead. What the hell was the paladin doing? Jophiel wondered to himself. If it weren't for the fact that he liked Noratu, he would have displayed his frustration more verbally; however, he had grown a liking to the priest and didn't want to ruin any chance of friendship (or possibly more) by insulting his obvious friend.

The group continued through the gigantic steel door and sliced their way through another large group of miners. This cavern led to a woodcutting area. What was the Defias cutting wood for? Jophiel believed he would find out before their quest for VanCleef's head was over. The wall shone a calm gold from the furnaces burning all around the room. Goblins worked diligently around the area, welding hatchets in quick movements.

"What's the plan?" Azsharite asked impatiently. Zaries thought for a moment.

"This doesn't seem very dangerous... they are only goblins after all," Zaries replied. Taking this as his cue, Jophiel reached for another throwing knife on his belt, but wasn't allowed the chance. Zaries charged toward the closest three and in one swing lopped them in two. Their torsos spewed a sickening green blood onto the warrior.

"Intruders!" A goblin cried out on the other side of the room. Jophiel rearmed his throwing arm and sent a razor sharp blade into the goblin, who only felt a sharp pain and then fell.

"Shit! Here they come!" Azsharite warned. His prediction was accurate. Half a dozen axe wielding monsters swarmed the elves from all sides.

"Die! Die! Die!" one of the goblins began to chant. The others quickly joined in. Jophiel's Cutlass removed one of the goblin's heads from its neck. The remainder crashed onto the stone flooring.

"Take your own advice," Jophiel spoke and a twisted smile overtook his lips, Zaries seemed to be enjoying the massacre almost as much. The goblins fell, but more replaced them. They fell as swiftly as the first set. This continued until no more goblins came. It was over, Jophiel believed. Then from a mountain of dirt in a darkened corner it came. Azsharite was the first to see the mechanical monster. A giant spinning blade rested upon the end of a metal arm large enough to hold three gnomes comfortably. This arm led to a metal body with a goblin safely behind a thick panel of glass. Azsharite cried out a warning, but by this time, the remainder of the group had already noticed the monstrosity.

"Stay back, he's mine," Zaries insisted. His voice was smooth and filled with... lust? Jophiel wasn't sure, but it sounded as if it were lust. No one argued with his proposition. The warrior charged towards the monstrous device and raised his buckler. The spinning blade made contact with the buckler and in one swift move; Zaries struck the spurring blade with his sword. A loud metallic clang echoed through the room, but the blade never ceased its spinning.

"Ah shit," Jophiel muttered. He ran to his fellow night elf's aid, but it turned out none was actually needed. In one fluid motion, Zaries's sword sliced into the blade once again and cut into it like butter. A large chunk of metal shot from the machine and flew towards Noratu. Jophiel turned to dive towards the priest, but it was not needed. For the first time, Varis the paladin made a move. He shielded the petite priest from the metal shard that would have almost certainly have ended Noratu's life before Jophiel could have even made a move. The chunk of metal crashed into the paladin's mail and crashed harmlessly to the floor.

"I said stay back!" Zaries cried out annoyed as he cut the monster's two metal legs straight through the center. The being fell.

"Don't be so melodramatic," Jophiel quipped back to the warrior.

"Go to hell," Zaries responded as stubborn as one could be.

"Now, now boys, don't fight," Azsharite said then began laughing hysterically, No one else found the humor in his phrase.

"How'd you do that?" Noratu asked from the silence.

"Recklessness," Zaries answered cryptically. Noratu pouted, but did not continue the needless conversation any longer.

"Alright kids... let's go," Azsharite said. Everyone agreed without debate. However, one of the members of the group would never leave the room again.

From here on out, the rest of VC is a bumpy ride, I hope you haven't grown attached to any one character. As I've said before, the action comes to a halt after the Deadmines, for the most part, and the actual plot kicks in, but that's still a little bit of a ways into the future... for now just enjoy my somewhat faithful rendition of the Deadmines.


	5. Death and Sensuality

Aww... I hate killing off my characters. This part is going to be 9-11 because chapter 10 and 11 are so short. Also resurrection doesn't exist in my universe sorry loves.

_9. A Warrior's Demise_

It happened in an instant. Zaries only felt a sharp pain, then he felt nothing, nor would he feel anything ever again. From the metal heap came a goblin, and before anyone could react, his dagger found its way into Zaries's chest; into his heart. Zaries saw the flowing crimson but could not stop it. No tears came to his eyes, and no final words were ever spoken.

"Zaries!" He heard someone cry out in concern, but he could not reply. He tried to tell the voice he was OK, but when no words left his mouth, he knew this was not the case. He felt nothing as his body fell to the ground like a ragdoll; He felt nothing as the rogue he had grown to hate struck down his murderer. The priest was upon him, but he knew it was too late. No amount of magic could rewrite his fate. Zaries knew this. His vision turned a horrid gray and he heard his breathing slow. SO this was death? He thought. It wasn't anywhere near as bad as he had feared.

He knew now, it would be but a long, peaceful sleep. The thought was exceptionally enticing in these final moments. On that thought, Zaries left the Deadmines; He left Westfall; He left Kalimdor; He left Azeroth never to return.

_10. Noratu's First Loss_

"Damn it!" Noratu cried and slammed his fist onto the ground in dismay "I messed up." Tears ran from the priest's eyes. Varis tried in vain to silently comfort the guilt-ridden priest. "Goddamn it!"

"Have you never lost a party member before?" Jophiel asked kindly. Noratu violently shook his head. Tears still flowed from the priest's eyes as Jophiel put his hand on the priest's shoulder. Anger flashed across Varis's eyes, but Jophiel purposely ignored it. Jealousy at this time would serve no purpose.

"It's alright, in a place like this, things happen, and people die, it wasn't your fault," Jophiel explained. Noratu turned to the remaining night elf. Before Jophiel could continue his condolences, Noratu's frail body (compared to the others at least) fell against Jophiel, and without a moment's hesitation, Jophiel tightly embraced him. Warmth; Jophiel wondered if he had ever felt such warmth before. Varis glared at the night elf with pure malice, but this time Jophiel didn't even notice.

_11. And the Mage Falls/The First Kiss_

Azsharite was the next to be struck down. The room in which Zaries had met his demise was not far behind him... one hallway away to be precise. The coming room was a gigantic, multi-tiered smelter sat in the centered of the spiraling room, which held a warm orange glow from the fire burning bright within the central metal. The room had a circular walkway, which lead downwards, descending onto a goblin infested metal floor. A magnificent steel door was locked tight, an obviously special goblin who towered four times the size of the others, protected it, a gigantic metal spear in his hands. Before the group could reach this "special" goblin, however, many enemies stood between them. In truth, the number of goblins wasn't that large, but each one had the ability to build machines to help them at incredible speeds. If the party had known this single fact, the battle may have been easier, but the monster mini-shredders, which the goblins built swarmed the remaining party mercilessly.

When the party finally made it to the ground floor, sweat and oil covered them, and the sweet smell of goblin blood filled their clothes, and the room.

"This shouldn't take much longer... Noratu keep me healed," Jophiel ordered. The usually energetic priest finally nodded." Yo, Mr. Pally. I'm gonna need your hel-" Jophiel cut himself off. The paladin was gone. Jophiel assumed he had lost his nerve when Zaries had died so suddenly. A worthless end to a worthless part member, it was fitting. Just like that, there were three... before the mage could act; the goblin with the spear hurled the polearm at the gnome. Jophiel's blade dug deep into the goblin and ripped through his back, sending more of the green blood into the gigantic room.

Azsharite easily dodged the spear, and then took a bullet to the back of the head. Jophiel and Noratu turned at lightning speed to see a patrol of three Defias elite awaiting them, two of which held guns.

"Shit! Azsharite!" Noratu cried out. He made a dash for the dying gnome, but Jophiel sheathed his Cutlass and grabbed the priest's hand.

"He's already gone! Come on, we need to go! Now!" Jophiel ordered urgently.

"No! I can save him!" Noratu argued diligently; bravely. Unfortunately the mage's shattered skull had already hit the ground. Crimson poured from the hole in the gnome's head. He died with a smile on his face. It seemed fitting to Jophiel. The Defias rose their guns and fired The priest was in the crosshairs, but before he could be shot, Jophiel tanked Noratu out of the bullets' line of fire.

If the situation were less dire, Jophiel would have been much happier with the fact he was holding the priest's hand so passionately, in fact, even in this life or death situation, somewhere in the back of his mind he enjoyed the moment.

They ran into the next hallway, behind a newly opened door. The place was abandoned, Jophiel felt as if they might survive after all. Then came the patrol. Five on two, or essentially five on one, what would have been an effortless endeavor with a party had become a fight to the death. One of the Defias raised their gun. Before he could fire, a hammer smashed into his skull and shattered it with a single blow. It was Varis. The paladin hadn't run after all. Was he merely waiting for such a chance, or had he decided to return only to quell the sense of guilt? Jophiel believed the latter, but he also knew it did not matter at the time. Jophiel reluctantly released Noratu's hand and ran to help the vastly outnumbered paladin. The Defias magician was the first to go. Varis mercilessly struck her chest as she begun to cast a spell, and she flew backwards into the wall with such force, that Jophiel heard her spine snap. She fell limp to the ground. Another member of the patrol prepared to strike Varis, and very well may have if a Blackwater Cutlass did not find its way into the man's neck.

The rest of the patrol was butchered without much effort. Jophiel could not believe how much help a single added set of hands could be. Varis looked to Noratu without a sound. Maybe it was instinct, perhaps it was completely planned out. Later, Jophiel would not be able to remember his intent, but whatever the reason, Jophiel impulsively (or so he would claim) made his way to Noratu. Every step he felt the eyes of Varis burning; slashing; stinging his back, but the night elf knew he needed to do something, which he knew could end in disaster.

"Noratu," Jophiel said gently "I'm glad you're alright." Noratu smiled his innocent smile. Without hesitation, Jophiel planted his lips upon the human's. Noratu leapt in shock, but did not struggle to break himself free. Instead, he allowed Jophiel to taste every inch of his rosy red lips. Jophiel broke the kiss, and smiled silently as he waited for a response. Noratu blushed a bright crimson (As did Varis, though for a different reason) and this only made Jophiel want the priest all the more. Despite this feeling, Jophiel knew this was neither the time, nor the place for such a thing, but there would be plenty of time afterward (or so he wanted so desperately to believe).

"For good luck," Jophiel clarified. As if possessed by a being which controlled his every whim, Noratu leaned forward and initiated their second long kiss. Their tongues battled like serpents, as Jophiel made sure to taste every inch of the priest's mouth. Jophiel pushed the priest against the nearby wall, and broke the kiss only for an instant, before kissing his newfound love even more passionately then before, their limbs interlocked and Jophiel felt the warmth of the priest's body once again. For a moment, Jophiel feared a hammer connected with his skull, but quickly erased such thoughts from his mind. He already had enough to worry about. Noratu was the one to (albeit hesitantly) break their third kiss.

"For good luck," Noratu said innocently, and smiled. All at once, Jophiel wanted to push the priest to the ground and take him that very moment, but he knew he could not. This was the most painful thing of all.

One hell of a first/second/third kiss wasn't it? Nonetheless... the story is far from over, and not everything is meant to be... read on if you must know what I mean.


	6. Locke the Savior

This is the final section of Part 1, and the end of my first long submission. Part 2 will be a little bit shorter, and will come in the following few days, whether I release it in small parts, or all at once, depends entirely upon the thoughts of my readers. I hope you have enjoyed so far... and I hope you don't hate me too much by the end of this section...

_12. The Docks_

At the end of the hall where Jophiel and Noratu shared their first intimacy a metal door stood with a lock upon it. Jophiel had no trouble picking it, however, and before long he pushed the door open. On the other side of the door was finally their destination. A wooden dock stood high above the crystal clear water not far below. The dock connected with a massive wooden vessel. Light shone upon the wood from a hole in the ceiling, far, far above, and Jophiel believed upon that boat he would find VanCleef, and he would kill him for all the trouble he had caused.

The docks housed a large handful of pirates, with white shirt and jeans, the Defias headband wrapped around each and every one of them. Nonetheless, the end was near. On the first deck of the prized ship awaited VanCleef... the leader; the one who thought himself as a god.

Without a hint of remorse, Jophiel and Varis struck down the pirates one by one, and made their way every closer to the ship. Reinforcements came, but with the speed of a monster, they were silenced as well, within mere moments. The end was near; Jophiel knew this, and a smile crossed his face. It was not truly revenge he wanted, but rather a conclusion, so he could spend time with the priest he had fallen for in more peaceful surroundings. Whether he would ever be allowed this, however, was not a question which once crossed his mind.

_13. The Tauren/The Massacre _

From the ship came a Tauren, large brown eyes and hearty fur, and he stood taller then most. He held a hammer high above his head; two men in black cloacks stood on both sides of him as well. Between the dock and the island they waited... aited for Varis the paladin, Jophiel the rogue, and Noratu the priest. Already two had fallen... Zaries the warrior and Azsharite the mage had both met their end within the place known to most only as the Deadmines.

"Ah hell," Jophiel cursed under his breath.

"You fools think you can get by me?" A deep, destructive voice came from the Tauren's mouth "Well now you're all going to die!"

"I've got the Defias, take out the cow," Jophiel ordered. Though Varis tried to do as he was told, this new enemy, Mr. Smite, was far too strong to be beaten single handedly. Jophiel quickly struck down the assassins and turned to help Varis. A spirit shield, or power word, protected him, but not even Noratu's shield could cushion the might hammer the Tauren wielded. Varis was struck in the head; blood flew like a cloud of crimson into the sky, and Varis tumbled off the dock into the water.

"Shit! Varis, no. God no... please God no..." Noratu cried. The paladin never came up for air. Instead his armor drug him to the bottom. It made little difference, however. The strike had killed the paladin long before he hit the water.

Tears of fire fell from Noratu's eyes, but he stayed focused upon Jophiel. Smite's hammer swiftly flew into Jophiel and sent him crashing down. Noratu almost managed to cast his strongest healing spell before a patrol silenced him once and for all with a bullet through the chest. Jophiel watched the entire scene in a horrid type of slow motion. He wanted nothing more but to cry out, and did so as the priest's body fell to the ground, his eyes drifting into space. The one he had kissed so passionately just a few minutes ago was now gone forever. All at once, the stark realization hit him. He was now all alone. The one he had developed feelings for now lay dead on the ground, and soon he knew he would be joining him in the spirit realm.

However, Jophiel was wrong. He was not alone.

_14. The Savior's Second Coming_

From high above came Jophiel's savior once again. This was the second time the troll had come to his rescue. Even a Tauren couldn't shake off a strike from a sword straight through the skull. Locke had leapt down from the second deck, and his sword impaled the Tauren's head from high above. A red mist engulfed the surrounding air, and in a scream which pierced the heavens, Mr. Smite fell into the dock, crashing with such a force that the wood splintered and shattered, and his body crashed into the water below. A bullet whizzed by Locke's head. He quickly turned and took a knife from his belt. One throw later, Noratu's killer was dead.

"It's ok lil' elf," Locke spoke softly.

"The name is Jophiel," The night elf managed to mutter "Help... Noratu."

"He's dead mon," Locked said with a tone of remorse "He ain't breathin'."

"Ugh," Jophiel cried. Tears fell from his eyes and ran down his cheeks. All at once it hit him once again... even harder this time. Noratu, funny, carefree, loving Noratu was dead. All at once Jophiel wished only to roll over and die; only to start over in the realm of the dead.

"Here mon... drink," Locke now sat down beside the, most likely fatally, injured night elf. He ran a surprisingly soft blue hand gently across Jophiel's face. Jophiel obeyed the command.

Jophiel's mouth opened and a horribly bitter liquid burned down his throat.

"Goddamn... that's horrible," Jophiel muttered. Locke laughed a joyous laugh.

"It'll take a while to work," Locke said, "But by tomorrow you'll be good as new. Hang on tight lil' elf."

"The name is... Jophiel," Jophiel managed to mutter, but without a verbal response, his words were cut short as he felt himself being lifted from the ground. Locke's arms were strong and firm. Jophiel's head came to rest against the troll's fit chest, and a relaxing drowsiness came upon him. Though the world moved around him, all he could hear was the beating of his savior's heart; in fact, he didn't much want to hear anything else.

- End Part 1-

So what did you think? If you liked it, or hated it, still review please. Part 2 - 1 will be up soon, and so on. If anyone really cares, I can speed up the process, and release all of part two relatively quickly. I honestly hope you've enjoyed so far.

- With love,

Sara


	7. By the Campfire

Thanks for the review Jenanien, if I messed up on something in the Deadmines please email me and tell me ).

Part 2 begins... right after part 1. Locke has just saved Jophiel... and they talk. This is where I believe the story starts getting better... and forgive me for chapter 2, I know that it's all gibberish... if anyone has suggestions how to fix this, please tell me.

**Part 2: Locke**

_1. The Campfire_

Jophiel's eyes opened to a starry sky high above him. Only a few scarce treetops kept the view from being perfect, yet the trees hindered the picture in Jophiel's mind. The trees looked different somehow, but Jophiel knew it really did not matter. There was a light coming from a campfire to his side. He moved his arm with only a hint of pain. The worst wounds were bandaged expertly. He ran his hand across his pinkish blue chest, his shirt missing and the same expertly wrapped bandages held him tightly; snuggly. His ribs had been broken, Jophiel remember this, yet it did not hurt. All at once the image of Noratu's chest being town in two from a bull came back to him as well. The memory summoned tears to Jophiel's eyes once again. _Good Luck... what a fucking joke_. Jophiel thought to himself bitterly.

Jophiel did his best to sit up, but he was much weaker then he had thought. It was a warning. Using every bit of his strength, he forced himself into a sitting position. He felt a little bit better knowing his pants hadn't been removed (though he wasn't sure why, night elves were known for many things, but being shy was definitely not one of them). The fire gave a much needed warmth and light to the oppressive and downright depressing forest which surrounded him. Though it could not be seen or smelt, the sense of death hung in the air all around.

"Hey mon," Locke spoke kindly "how ya doin?"

"I've been better, but without you I wouldn't... I would have ended up," Jophiel's voice trailed off as thoughts of Noratu (and tears) resurfaced. Jophiel secretly hated himself for crying so freely, but he could not help it.

"That priest," Locke asked without hesitation "Was he a friend of yours?"

"Something like that, but it doesn't matter anymore," Jophiel did his best to flash a brief smile, but it came off labored and tired.

"Sorry mon, you loved him didn't ya?" Locke questioned bluntly. Jophiel scanned the troll's eyes for malice; for some sort of trap, he saw none.

"I might have, eventually," Jophiel trailed off.

"Here," Locked moved from the fire and in his right hand was a branch, with strider meat cooked to a crisp, firm and slightly blackened. He held out the branch to Jophiel who took it without even a moment's hesitation.

All at once a primal hunger overtook Jophiel, and he devoured the meat in a handful of large chunks. It was plain, nothing special, but nonetheless Jophiel had never eaten anything with even a fraction of the enjoyment in his short (for a night elf) life.

"Slow down mon or you'll choke," Locke said with a voice of good humor Jophiel did not expect from a troll (nor did he expect any of this). Jophiel held a genuine smile for a few moments as he devoured the remaining meat.

"Don't worry about me I kn-" Jophiel silenced for a moment, suddenly deep in thought.

"What is it?" Locke asked.

"You speak common, why the hell do you speak common?" Jophiel's voice was somewhat frightened, all at once it had hit him, something was wrong.

"Calm down mon. It's a long story, I'll tell ya some other time," Locke replied. Jophiel reflexively relaxed, not exactly content, but at least with a fraction of the answer.

"I don't think i've," Jophiel hesitate before continuing with a different thought, "thank you... you've saved me twice now, I wish I could repay you somehow."

"You thought about me didn't ya?" Locke's voice took a peculiar tone which Jophiel did not much like.

"What?" Jophiel responded confused.

"Ya thought about me. Ya wanted to see me again," Locke continued. Jophiel thought back to the night at the inn and blushed a bright cherry red.

"What are you talking about?" Jophiel snapped defensively.

"You're blushing mon," Locke replied and smiled.

"No I'm not," Jophiel said. Embarrassed, he looked away.

"Ya you are," Locke replied then began to laugh. All at once Jophiel almost wished he had died subsequently and been spared from the pure awkwardness which had engulfed him. "Sorry mon."

Feeling best to change the subject, Jophiel thought urgently for a moment. "Why does my head hurt so much?" Jophiel inquired. A sharp, piercing pain shot through his head as he spoke.

"You don't remember? When you fell you hit your head on the rocks," Locke explained.

"No I can't remember anything," Jophiel strained to think back. For an instant a floating memory resurfaced. Blood, Noratu, what had happened? A paladin, A warrior, a mage, VanCleef, the Defias, and like that the memories fell away into nothing.

"I can't remember anything except for you, and Noratu," Jophiel explained. Everything else was only a blur, the priestess from long ago now completely lost in the black.

"So ya only remember the ones ya like eh mon?" Locke said without a hint of distaste or shame. Jophiel wasn't sure if he should be flattered, embarrassed, or annoyed.

"Do you enjoy fucking with me?" Jophiel asked. He immediately began to blush as he thought of how such a statement could possibly be taken literally. Locke smiled at this.

"I'm not sure yet lil' elf, wanna find out?"

"You're not funny 'mon'," Jophiel said. Despite this he couldn't help but smile.

"OK lil el-" Locke cut himself off. Jophiel had heard it as well. Something was coming.

_2. A Warning_

The sound approached at an immense speed; both Jophiel and Locke rose to their feet and went for their weapons. Jophiel was surprised to only find a single blade. Pain like needles shot through his arm as he gripped the single cutlass. Locke pulled a dagger from his belt and they waited, preparing to turn the predator into their prey. Soon, an unarmed figured emerged from the darkness. It was an orc. His eyes shown from Locke to Jophiel, his features impossible to make out.

"Ist hawa parji?" The orc asked confused. All at once Jophiel wished he could understand.

"Ah tela Sara, uk horecta," Lock replied. The orc's face clouded for a moment, then lit up with understanding.

"Et shii 'elf' ist baluban?" The orc questioned.

"What is he saying? What are you saying?"" Jophiel finally spoke up after recognizing only a single word.

"Hold on mon, i'll tell ya in a moment," Locke responded. Jophiel sighed defeated and nodded. The orc's eyes widened encompassing a large part of his face.

"Ist 'Deadmines, arc holar horecta," Locke replied to the orc.

"Alliance arc holar?"

"Aye elf ist holar Alliance," Locke paused "Ist alk tie Jophiel." Hearing his name caused uneasiness within, but Jophiel repressed it.

"Ist hola "Alliance" baluban," The orc repeated.

"Chao," Locke replied.

"Chao," The orc said then turned and walked away.

"Well? Jophiel asked. Locke sighed.

"You've got a choice mon," Locke spoke hesitantly.

"What?" Jophiel questioned, a clouded look covered his face.

"A group of the militia is coming. It's up to you lil' elf. Come with me to Stranglethorn, or go meet them," Locke explained. It was an exceptionally pained tone. Jophiel didn't even think for half a moment before responding.

- End sub 7 -

And that's all for now, I'll put up 3, 4, and 5 all at once since they are very short. It's already written, so I could technically copy it to the comp right now, but nah ... review if you can please. Thanks everyone, and expect an update in a few days.


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